


Miss PMS

by SilenceoftheSolitude



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Slytherin way of thinking, Slytherins Being Slytherins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-23 03:29:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10711248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilenceoftheSolitude/pseuds/SilenceoftheSolitude
Summary: The whole affair had started off innocently enough, but it had now taken a life of its own, and Millicent wasn’t quite certain any of the protagonists held any control over the situation anymore.





	Miss PMS

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Curtain](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/285765) by therealsnape. 



> This fic would not exist without the brilliant idea [therealsnape](http://therealsnape.livejournal.com/) had. I suggest you head over to her journal or to her [ff.net account](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/1157571/the-real-snape) and read her works (there are some highly entertaining ones - I particularly suggest the detective!McGonagall series).
> 
> This work has no beta, so all mistakes are my own.
> 
> Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all recognizable characters are the property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing and whoever else owns the rights to the franchise. No copyright infringement intended.

 

The whole affair had started off innocently enough, but it had now taken a life of its own, and Millicent wasn’t quite certain any of the protagonists held any control over the situation anymore. No one ever could once Professor Snape got involved.

 

Insulting Hermione Granger had become a natural occurrence over the years; Millicent had never been a bully – her mother had educated her to be better than that. But her mother had arguably never met Hermione Granger, especially not while in her school years. Slytherin House was, as Professor Snape never tired to remind them, a true House. Even if one hated one’s brother, they had to defend them from outside forces. What Millicent thought of this was that, considering everyone else hated the Slytherins, it was their duty to stand up against the common enemies and – in a saying that had little of the mark of Salazar Slytherin and a lot of muggle influence which _no one_ dared bring up even if Professor Snape was not around – air their dirty laundry inside the walls of the Slytherin common room.

 

Millicent had therefore found herself on one too many occasions in the uncomfortable position of having to engage in verbal sparring (she was smarter than to mention even a hint of wand activity) with Hermione Granger, the most insufferable person Millicent had ever met. The fact that Pansy’s infatuation with Draco had blossomed to a full-blown crush and that Draco was always trying to get a rise out of Potter and his two best friends, made it ever so harder for Millicent not to get involved.

 

At the best of times, Draco had the sense not to walk with Pansy in tow, but lately he had begun to develop an interest in girls, and while he might not particularly fancy Pansy, she was there for the taking, and everyone in Slytherin knew Draco didn’t like to fight for what he wanted. Pansy, who could sometimes be denser than a Gryffindor flouncing an unwanted bout of courage, had thought it a good idea to defend Draco even before Granger, Potter and the Weasel could get a word in. Millicent tried very hard to walk far from Pansy when Draco was around, but it was difficult to do when it was time for their classes.

 

And that, was how the ordeal had begun. Draco insulting Granger, Pansy running to his rescue before the insufferable Gryffindor could even get a word in, and Millicent tagging along because to not tag along would mean that she was betraying all that was Slytherin.

 

Professor Snape, of course, just had to be around the corner. He did take points from Gryffindor – Salazar only knew how he made his reasoning believable – and hinted at giving Granger a detention, while sidling in a snide remark, but then he gave them all the Look. Every Slytherin knew what the Look meant. It meant that Professor Snape might not take House points, but he did believe in discipline. It meant that they would all have to go to his office after classes to get their punishment – girls and boy at separate times.

 

Before his billowing cloak had had the chance to depart – Malfoy had scurried away as soon as the Look had been given, but somehow both Millicent and Pansy were, to date, unable to feel a strange fascination that left them rooted to the spot for at least five minutes – Pansy uttered the wrong words.

 

“Bloody Miss PMS.”

 

Professor Snape’s steps had halted for a fraction of a second, and that was more than enough to know that he had heard and registered the epithet. Millicent didn’t really think much of it, at first. And, in fact, she wouldn’t have thought of it at all, except that when she opened the door to Professor Snape’s office that evening, with Pansy in tow, she saw that there were seven other Slytherin girls already seated in front of his desk, and there were only two empty chairs left. She knew all the girls present, of course, but the selection was careful and it was going to be hard to explain it in any other fashion than to relate them to the use of the ‘Miss PMS’ moniker to describe  Hermione Granger.

 

Pansy, however, didn’t seem to make the connection, for she didn’t look entirely too preoccupied by the selection.

 

It was rare for Professor Snape to discipline anyone in front of other Slytherins who had not been privy to the accident which had brought on the necessity of disciplinary measures, but when it happened it generally meant he was displeased.

 

By looking at Professor Snape it was hard to think that the man could be anything but displeased, for his facial expression was set in a nearly permanent scowl that did nothing to improve the already dismal features adorning his face; the sallow complexion of his skin acquired an eerie glow, and the hooked nose seemed to grow in dimension as he used it to stare down at people. But Professor Snape did have a vast array of emotions to speak of – or at least a great many levels of displeasure.

 

“I will begin by addressing a great dissatisfaction with the behaviour the two of you have displayed, _yet again_ while in the presence of Mr Malfoy,” he begun. Millicent sunk in her chair, although she made it a point to keep a prime posture. “I had thought that Mr Crabbe and Mr Goyle made a sufficient spectacle of themselves as brain-dead bodyguards, and it is highly unbecoming for two young witches such as yourselves to behave in a manner so crude.”

 

The comparison with Crabbe and Goyle was enough to make Millicent want to throw her head under the covers of her bed and cry for a week – no one ever dared to say anything to them when Draco was around, but otherwise it was a Slytherin sport to see how far you could go in insulting them before they realised that they were being made fun of. After all, they were the greatest cause for loss of House points, it was only fair that the other Slytherins took their frustration out on them.

 

Professor Snape, however, wasn’t satisfied.

 

“And if that was not cause enough of displeasure,” no need to specify that _he_ was the one displeased with their behaviour, “I found myself to be the recipient of an argument with the Deputy Headmistress because of your decision to flaunt your _crush_ ,” his sneer would have been visible even if Millicent hadn’t been looking directly at him, “in front of the most annoying Gryffindor in the school.”

 

Well, Millicent reflected, at least Potter could not claim that particular title.

 

“Do you have _any_ idea what an argument with the Deputy Headmistress sounds like? What it entails? Have you ever heard an entitled Gryffindor woman on a mission to defend one of her cubs?”

 

Millicent didn’t, of course, but Professor Snape’s face was very eloquent in conveying the disgust he had felt while entertaining said conversation, which was why she didn’t answer the rhetorical question.

 

“Well,” Pansy murmured, “Granger is a pretty good rendition of that.”

 

The office froze.

 

Everyone knew you did not answer one of Professor Snape’s rhetorical questions. Evene Pansy should know – and by the look on her face as she realised she had spoken out loud, apparently she did.

 

“Very well, then, Miss Parkinson,” Professor Snape said, “then I am sure you will not mind in the least having to read all of Miss Granger’s Potion assignments since her tenure at Hogwarts begun. Four years ago.”

 

Professor Snape’s punishments were absolutely marvellous in their inventiveness. No one besides the other Slytherins could ever find out about them, but they were the most dreaded by all. And it was really a joy to be privy to them – unless, of course, you were their recipient.

 

“As for Miss Bulstrode, I think her better show of restraint will be rewarded. I should think she would very much like to spend the next two days taking care of Mrs Norris while Mr Filch recuperates from his injury in the Hospital Wing.”

 

Millicent barely contained her groan of displeasure. She was rather fond of cats, of course, and had one of her own. But therein lay the problem, for Mrs Norris hated all other cats and was prone to get into epic cat fights with them. In fact, Mrs Norris hated anyone but Mr Filch. “Of course, Sir.”

 

Millicent noticed that Professor Snape had been leaning forward only when he slid back in his seat and relaxed ever so slightly.

 

“Now,” he begun anew, “I should think I would like an explanation on a term I am quite confident means something different when employed by a group of nine Slytherin girls.”

 

“We never use it in public, Sir,” Astoria said.

 

It was lucky that she had spoken first, because she was possibly one of the few people whom Snape treated with care even outside the public eye, and she was the youngest of them all, anyway.

 

“Miss Greengrass, do not mistake my interest with a wish to punish any of you,” he stated, “I elected to have you all here when I punished Miss Bulstrode and Miss Parkinson for they reminded me of the term today by using it.

 

“I should also like to point out,” he added after a pregnant pause – every pause, with Professor Snape, was pregnant. “That while I am quite delighted with the fact that you answered promptly, the term was born before your arrival at Hogwarts and shall therefore be better explained by those who invented it.”

 

Professor Snape’s eyes turned to the older Miss Greengrass at once.

 

Daphne swallowed, but had enough nerve now that Snape had assured them he had no ill intentions.

 

“Well, Sir,” she started, “it’s not meant as any sort of disrespect towards anyone, really, but it was hard not to attach the nickname to Granger even after only two weeks of having made her…” she paused looking for an apt term. Millicent couldn’t think of one herself. “I shouldn’t like to say acquaintance, but I’m sure you understand what I’m saying, Sir.”

 

Professor Snape raised his eyebrow. _That_ meant he was amused. Daphne had a way with words…

 

“As it were, Sir, the first thing we heard come out of her mouth was repeated long enough for us to be compelled to do something with it, really,” Daphne continued, knowing she was the best spokesperson for the job. “Considering that her behaviour _was_ very conductive to the syndrome, it seemed a waste not to use it. And the words served themselves so well, too.”

 

The realisation seemed to hit Professor Snape. “Certainly you do not mean…”

 

Daphne tried – and failed – to look apologetic.

 

“Those will be five points to Slytherin, for each of you that was old enough to be in school when the idea stroke you. Do not let them go to waste by allowing yourselves to be overheard, please.”

 

They all stood up and filed out of the office at once, and were hardly able to contain their mirth. _Miss Professor McGonagall Says_ might just have been their greatest invention yet.


End file.
